The Very Bad Mood
by Kiricat
Summary: One should never draw beetle wars on Erestor's things, as poor, unsuspecting Glorfindel is about to find out. Oneshot parody. Enjoy.


A/N: I found this on my dad's laptop. Since I thought it was kind of funny, I decided to post it here. That's all. Nothing special.

Enjoy.

Disclamer: Tolkien owns everything. Except the very prominent out of character behavior.

* * *

Erestor was in a Very Bad Mood. 

He stomped – or rather, he stomped as well as it was possible for an Elf to stomp – through the halls of Imladris, giving the Look of Doom to any who got in his way. The inhabitants of Imladris fled before his wrath. Lindir dove out of the way as Erestor passed him in the kitchens, the Twins ran for their lives when they saw him in the gardens, Elrond was hiding in his study, Arwen and little two-year-old Estel were cowering in a large pine tree, and Glorfindel was…. Well, Glorfindel was Glorfindel. Meaning: He was the Evil-Delinquent-Who-Put-Erestor-In-A-Bad-Mood.

Woe to Glorfindel.

"WHERE _IS _THAT CONFOUNDED, EMPTY-HEADED, EGOISTICAL, GOLDEN-HAIRED _YRCH_!" Erestor shrieked.

Lindir cowered behind his harp.

The Twins wished they had never been born.

Elrond wanted his mommy.

Arwen wished she was far, far, away with a big, strong husband to protect her.

Estel cried.

And…

Glorfindel hummed.

Erestor spotted him. He stalked forward, wearing the Look of Doom as well as the patented, Very Scary Stare of Certain and Painful Death.

Elladan sobbed, "We'll miss you, Glorfindel! _Namarie, mellon! Namarie!_"

"You were a good Elf," Said Elrond solemnly.

"You…" Erestor hissed, staring up at his victim, "Are… A… LYING, CONNIVING, EVIL THEIF!"

"Good morning, Erestor." Said Glorfindel serenely.

"Don't 'Good morning, Erestor' ME, you filthy liar! I KNOW you did it! I know you did! _Where did you put it_?" Erestor yelled.

Glorfindel was confused. What could he have taken that Erestor would want? His best robes? No, that had been fifty years ago, surely he was over that by now. His special quill? No, that was thirteen years ago, Erestor would've surely forgotten about it. Those funny, old pieces of parchment that said IMPORTANT on them? No, that was – uh oh. That was this morning.

Glorfindel braced himself. "Do you mean those funny pieces of parchment that said IMPORTANT on them, Erestor?"

"Yes," Said the dark-haired Elf dangerously. "What did you DO with them?"

Glorfindel was trying to remember… he had taken the papers… he had needed them for showing Estel something… what was it? Oh, yes. He had need parchment so he could draw big, shiny beetles for Estel. The little boy had wanted him to draw them for so long, that finally Glorfindel had taken him and found some parchment for them to draw on – the parchment that said IMPORTANT on it.

Oops.

"Why?" Glorfindel asked innocently, to stall for time.

"BE_CAUSE_ they were the very, very, very, old and valuable manuscripts hand-written by Maedhros himself about the FLIGHT OF THE _NOLDOR_!" Erestor screamed in frustration. "Do you have _any _idea of how IMPORTANT that was? What did you _do _with it!"

Glorfindel winced. He had drawn beetle wars on them.

He had drawn _beetle_ wars on handwritten documents by the heir of Feanor, documents possibly dating back to before the First Age.

Double oops.

"I… I, er…" He stammered nervously.

Estel suddenly scampered forward. "OH!" The little boy cried, jumping up and down excitedly. "Oh! I remember! I remember! Pick me, pick me!"

Oh no, thought Glorfindel. I'm doomed.

"Yes, Estel?" Erestor asked. Glorfindel swallowed.

Estel beamed. "_Well_, Glorfindel was drawing horsies and I thought he was a good artist so I said, 'Glorfy, draw me beetles,' and he said 'No I'm busy,' and I said, 'Please', and he said, 'No,' and I said, 'Pretty please,' and he said, 'No,' and I said-"

"Get to the _point_, Estel – please." Erestor growled.

Estel took a deep breath. "_Well_, so finally Glorfy said 'Yes,' and I said, 'Yay', and he said, 'We need paper,' so he left and I waited and when he came back he had the parchment that said IMPORTANT on it, and for the rest of the morning he drew beetle wars for me. It was fun."

Slowly, very slowly, Erestor turned around to face Glorfindel. He looked like he'd gone mad. No, more than mad. Absolutely, incurably, dangerously, insane.

Glorfindel's life flashed before his eyes.

"Oops?" He offered meekly.

Erestor exploded in his face, shrieking like a deranged canary.

And far away in Lorien, Galadriel looked up from her mirror.

"What is it?" asked Celeborn.

His wife just chuckled. "Oh, nothing," She said. "The usual."

THE END.

* * *

Well that's that. I hope it was sufficiently amusing.

Namaarie,

Kiricat


End file.
